The Crack in the Tea Cup Opens
by Willow Skye
Summary: A quick look at what happened between Emma's drugging and her waking up in Season 1, Episode 17, "Hat Trick", centered around Jefferson.


_Author's Note: Jefferson as a character really intrigues me, and I wanted to explore what he did to pass the time as Emma was passed out. Some very minor suggestions of Mad Swan shippy-ness is in here, but it's not a central theme I explored. I hope you enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts in a review. _

_The title is a reference to W.H. Auden's poem, "As I Walked Out One Evening"._

* * *

"I guess you caught me," Jefferson says, and he feels a small thrill that the charade is up and she's unable to really do anything. Or maybe it's not that. Maybe it's that he's finally doing something. Twenty eight years is a long time to wait. Or was it longer? It had to be, right? He wasn't entirely sure how much time he'd spent in Wonderland-time didn't move the same way there; he only knew that it felt like an eternity but he also knew that Grace hadn't seemed to age too much between his entrapment and the enactment of the curse.

"Who are you?" Emma slurs as she slumps to the couch, completely unconscious. He grins, pleased that his plan has worked so far. It's a good sign, certainly.

And then he walks forward and leans down and whispers in her unhearing ear, "I am madness incarnate." Tucks a blonde strand of hair away, "And you're going to help me change that."

He doesn't try to dwell on the past or the future-strictly a present tense sort of guy. It's the best coping method he has. The past was too dualistic, the future too up in airs, but the present stayed still, or it had until the woman now passed out on his too pristine couch showed up.

Jefferson stands and considers her for a moment. Scuffs his toe against a small spot on the carpet colored just slightly by the last remaining drops of tea and poison that tumbled out of the cup as she lost herself to short sleep. Watches her steady breathing carefully, pondering how he has been so like a hermit for so long and he now has two live people in his house. Glances back to the ostentatious grand piano and remembers that he needs to put that map away so he does.

Grace could play the piano. He'd watched her do so with those other people.

He knows it's warm in the house and as he observes Emma he notices that a small bead of sweat was forming on her face. He frowns-he doesn't want her to be uncomfortable. To an extent, anyway; the roll of duct tape in his hands tells a different story than his thoughts do. His thumb moves over the silver utilitarian stuff as another thought occurs to him: Would she be able to get out if she's wearing that restrictive jacket? Probably not. Or maybe she could but he convinces himself otherwise.

He puts the tape on the coffee table and carefully takes her coat off, actively avoiding touching her skin. He's not sure why he doesn't touch her directly-somehow it feels like maybe it's too soon, that he deserves nothing more than the handshake she offered on first meeting him. Or maybe he's afraid that she'll wake up and strangle him if she's touched. Maybe he just wants to keep wondering at the feeling of her half-asleep in his arms as he drags her to the place she now rests. Whatever, it doesn't matter. What matters was the goal, and the woman was only a mean to an end.

Still, he can't help but quickly sniff the perfume on her coat before he hangs it up on the coat rack by the front door.

He returns to her side and fingers the roll of silver beside him, pondering. After a minute he springs to action, carefully securing her ankles and wrists, cringing slightly as his fingers brush her forearms and hands. A patterned ascot-not one of his favorites-emerges from his pocket and he uses it as a makeshift gag. It's not tight enough to hurt or leave a mark, but it still does the job.

Jefferson observes his work for just a moment or so before remembering that she would be waking up soon, and so he leaves to sharpen his tools so long unused; he had given up trying to make the hats work in this world long ago. But tonight, that was going to change.

Tonight, he would have his hat.


End file.
